


Ginger Spiced Meatballs

by SleeplessBoyy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bisexual Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, This Is STUPID, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplessBoyy/pseuds/SleeplessBoyy
Summary: Ashe isn’t known for being the brightest of the Kingdom’s troops. In fact, all he’s known for is his incredible skill in archery and his love of food, from the finest dishes of Faerghus to the aromatic meals of Duscur. Ashe has tried, and loved, it all.So when word spreads of his friend Sylvain’s new ginger meatballs, he had to investigate.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	Ginger Spiced Meatballs

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what possessed me to make this my first thing on ao3 but here we go. This was based entirely on a nonsense joke, but ended up being weirdly fun to write???

Ashe isn’t known for being the brightest of the Kingdom’s troops. In fact, all he’s known for is his incredible skill in archery and his love of food, from the finest dishes of Faerghus to the aromatic meals of Duscur. Ashe has tried, and loved, it all.

So when word spreads of his friend Sylvain’s new ginger meatballs, he had to investigate.

Tracking the cavalier down wasn’t too difficult, just involving asking the professor where Ashe could find him. With the usual level of indifference expected from the professor, the archer learned he could find his ginger friend in the marketplace, most likely chatting up the local women at Garreg Mach. A short jog later and there Sylvain is, leaning against the item stall, flirting with a gaggle of women yet to fall for his tricks and empty promises. 

“How about you ladies follow me up to the dining hall, and perhaps I can treat you to some of my ginger spiced meatballs afterwards?”

Ah ha! Just what Ashe is after!

The women titter and blush, basking in the charm exuding from the man, as well as the thinly veiled euphemism that Ashe has yet to pick up on. He forces his way into the conversation, giving Sylvain’s arm a gentle tap as a smile blooms on the younger man’s face. “Ah, Sylvain! Perhaps I could join you all, I’ve heard a lot about these meatballs of yours and I just had to investigate.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence, confusion painting the womens’ faces and a mix of shock and intrigue on the cavalier’s. “I hadn’t realised you were that way inclined, Ashe.” Is all Sylvain says, eyes jumping to Ashe’s feet then back up to his face. The women keep silent.

“What way inclined? I thought everyone was aware of my love for food.” 

Sylvain’s smirk raises slightly, eyebrows turning downwards a smidge. “Ah- Oh, oh I see. Of course I could show you them, perhaps even teach you how to cook them.” There’s a hint of a giggle in his voice.

“That would be just wonderful, thank you!” The women watch for a moment longer before giggling and waving goodbye to the men, whispering and gossiping. The details of this conversation will be known by all by the end of the week end.

“Well follow me then.” The older man guides the two through the monastery. Ashe is moderately surprised when they don’t stop anywhere near the Dining Hall, instead walking in the direction of the dorms. He inquires for the reason why, but only receives a vague ‘I can’t store them in the kitchens.’ After a few moments longer, walking up the staircase to the upper floor of the forms, Ashe begins to suspect that, perhaps, Sylvain wasn’t talking about actual meatballs.

The archer reaches out to his friend’s sleeve, stopping them both in their tracks. “U-Um Sylvain… Your meatballs aren’t actual meatballs are they?”

The older man is silent for half a moment before turning, his signature grin on his face. “I thought you’d never pick up on the innuendo. Thought I’d bring you somewhere private to explain what I meant.”

“O-Oh! Well t-there’s no need to ex-” Ashe tries, every inch of his skin flaring red. He’d intruded on Sylvain’s flirting and then completely misunderstood something and now he’ll have to endure the embarrassment of having it explained to him. His face scrunches up as he’s cut off, bracing for something entirely lewd.

“I was talking about my balls.”

“Oh-”

“My nuts.”

“Yes I-”

“The family jewels that sit just below my Lance of Ruin.”

“YES THANK YOU SYLVAIN I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEAN.” The poor, innocent archer let go of the cavalier the moment he started speaking, now covering his tomato-red face with his hands, shaking slightly at the raw embarrassment running through his veins. He wants to run and hide and not leave his room for at least two weeks. 

But embarrassment isn’t the only thing ringing through Ashe. A kind of arousal smoulders in his core. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t had… thoughts about his fellow soldiers at Garreg Mach, his virgin bisexual heart fluttering at the many beautiful faces he sees day in, day out. Sylvain isn’t someone who’s been at the forefront of his thoughts, but he’s come up often enough to prompt this reaction.

The older man’s laughter echoed through the otherwise empty hall, hands snaking to his own stomach as he doubles over. It only flusters the younger more.

“Please stop laughing at me, Sylvain! How was I to know that you didn’t actually mean food? I’d just heard the rumours and there was no mention of your usual… usual nonsense!” All his words receive is more laughter, the man starting to cough and cry at Ashe’s reaction. 

Another 10 or so seconds pass of laughter and embarrassment that ends in Sylvain standing back up, wiping his face with the last few giggles, Ashe stood an arm’s length away, hugging his own chest. The older man finds himself distracted by the archer, laughter being chased away by the familiar signs before him. Enlarged pupils, a persisting blush, slightly laboured breathing.

Is Ashe aroused?

He takes a step towards the red-faced man, easily slipping back into his alluring persona, eyelids drooping, eyes now drinking in the petite, lithe figure before him. He’s certain that by the end of the afternoon he’ll have Ashe in his room. “Say Ashe, am I wrong to say you’re not disappointed to find out I wasn’t talking about food?”

The archer squeaks, the pinky red on his cheeks turning towards a deeper, cherry colour. His eyes flick up to meet Sylvain’s, a shock of lust shaking his bones at the entirely sinful look on his face. “M-M-Maybe…” His words lodge in his throat, averting his eyes once more. He’s so unexperienced in the realm of sex and flirting, using all of his will to stop him from running from what could be his first ever sexual encounter.

Sylvain licks his bottom lip, reaching out to cup the archer’s face. He shudders, moving into the touch as he drowns in attention. “Would you like to come into my room?” The question is accompanied by a gentle stroke of his thumb across impossibly soft, hot skin. A nod is all he receives, and that is all the consent he needs. He steps away from Ashe, opening the door to his room, grinning as the younger man follows, entranced.

The door closes behind them, silence and breathing filling the air. Sylvain can tell his partner is nervous, green eyes jumping from his chest to his crotch then back up to his face, hands fidgeting at his side, connected to rigid arms. The older man steps into his personal space, hand returning to burning cheek. “Relax” is all the warning he gives before joining their lips. Ashe panics for a moment before melting into the warmth that is his partner. He lets his eyes slip shut, hands moving to Sylvain’s waist, tentative fingers pressing into the fabric that’s draped around his hips. Sylvain’s hands secure around Ashe’s face, easily guiding him through the kiss. Before too long their tongues have found each other’s mouths, small moans coming from each of them. Ashe, lacking the experience Sylvain has, soon finds himself hard, rutting against the older man’s thigh.

The cavalier breaks the kiss then, gazing at the already wrecked man, pupils blown wide, breath hot between them, a single string of saliva connecting them. It’s broken as they move towards the bed, Ashe being pushed down so he’s sat on the plush mattress and sheets. He watches with great enthusiasm as Sylvain undresses, not bothering to remove his armour, instead shuffling around until the sturdy, orange fabric around his crotch is pushed down. He removes himself from his pants, letting his hard dick and balls keep his pants pushed down. Ashe zeros in on them, mouth hanging over at the sheer girth and size of the man before him.

No wonder all the women flirt with him.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He asks, drawing Ashe’s attention. Sylvain shuffles forward, cupping the archer’s cheek, his spare hand gripping the base of his cock. “Stick your tongue out.” The archer follows the command perfectly, doe eyes looking up at the cavalier, plump tongue resting on soft, slightly bruised lips. The head of Sylvain’s dick rests on his tongue, a drop of precum trickling down his throat.

“Good boy… now do what you want, I trust you.” Ashe nods minutely, looking down to the cock in his mouth. He experiments, kitten licks that draw soft moans from the older man. The taste isn’t averse to the younger, so he presses on, starting to lick with confidence, further down his shaft, slowly drawing him into his mouth. His teeth scrape Sylvain every now and again, but he doesn’t complain, low moans being the only response to the gentle blowjob.  
After a few minutes, Ashe is sure of his technique. He starts confidently moving his head, savouring every unique taste. The pungent aroma that invades his senses isn’t unwelcome either, constructing a greater… dining experience? He isn’t usually painfully hard whilst eating, nor is he actually eating anything right now, but to deny the similarities between the two would be foolish.

“Fuck, Ashe, you must h-have done this before, You’re ‘mazing.” Sylvain groans, hands finding grey locks, fisting in them in some attempt to ground himself. The archer keeps up the pace, giving an experimental swallow when his nose presses against Sylvain’s abdomen. “Ah, fuck! I’m gonna cum A-Ashe, I’m… ah…” The archer pulls off suddenly, wincing at the pain of tugging his hair, preventing the man from cumming. He licks his lips, an obscene moan escaping his now thoroughly bruised lips. He blinks, moving his eyes to the reason this all started, Sylvain’s meatballs. A giddy smile crosses his lips, his hands rummaging with his clothes, desperately pulling himself free of his clothes. The moment he has one hand on his dick, the other wraps around his partner’s wet shaft, smearing his saliva up and down the flesh. His mouth returns to Sylvain, now giving a firm lick to his sac before wrapping his lips around a testicle. 

The moan that Sylvain utters is entirely unbecoming, jerking his hips forward, smearing precum across Ashe’s cheek. All he can do is hold Ashe to his crotch as the archer sucks on his balls, moaning around them, pumping himself in time with his pumps of Sylvain. The two are utterly debauched, all sweat and desire, the moans coming from each of them absolutely unholy. The cavalier’s hips jerk once more, shouts of “Oh fuck” and “I’m gonna cum” being the only warning before he explodes, ropes of semen coating freckled cheeks and grey locks. As Ashe milks Sylvain for all he’s worth, he pushes himself over the edge, his own cum shooting up, staining his clothes. 

Ashe detaches himself, panting, head filled with cotton and limbs filled with bliss. Sylvain collapses next to him, half-leaning on the archer, a tired chuckle on his lips. “Fucking hell Ashe… You should have warned me you could give godly blowjobs.”

By the end of the month, thanks in no small part to a gaggle of women, Ashe is known for three things; his incredible skill in archery, his love of food and his surprising talent for blowjobs.


End file.
